“…I hear you.”

Daniel swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and answered in a voice she could not hear.

After all, this was the first time since last autumn that Katrina had called his name—Daniel. The pronunciation was clear, without a trace of distortion, as if she could hear her own voice perfectly.

“I… I’ll try my best.”

The way her next words blurred ever so slightly was unbearably endearing.

Right after the accident, Katrina still spoke clearly, but the longer she lived without hearing, the more her speech deteriorated.

Neither she nor Daniel had known that simply losing the ability to hear one’s own voice could cause speech to falter. It wasn’t rare, but in her case, the decline had been alarmingly fast.

Perhaps that was why there were certain words she avoided pronouncing altogether—and his name was one of them.

But today, she had spoken it aloud.

For no reason at all, his heart throbbed. Even witnessing a daughter’s very first word could not have been more overwhelming.

Since Katrina lost her hearing, Daniel had been relearning the entire spectrum of human emotions through her.

He had no idea she had practiced his name obsessively, repeating it hundreds of times and checking with the maid until she was certain it was correct—only then gathering the courage to call him.

He also didn’t know that the fear of mispronouncing her beloved’s name had kept her silent for so long.

He knew none of this, yet still he leaned close to her ear and whispered:

“No. I take back what I said earlier. Don’t try so hard. Politics, social gatherings—all of that means nothing to me.”

“…”

“You alone are enough for me.”

Katrina gently pushed against his chest and slipped from his embrace. Her clear chestnut eyes fixed on him in surprise.

Her round eyes seemed to say: ‘What did you just say?’

Daniel smiled faintly and brushed her hair back slowly. Every time his fingers grazed her, the soft fragrance of peonies stirred his heart.

“I said… I love you. I love you.”

He spoke softly, and when she understood, she smiled. Through the open window of the bedchamber, a fresh early-summer breeze swept in.

Perhaps it was the sweet wind of the season.

As the sunlight poured in with the warm breeze, wrapping them in a gentle embrace, his vague anxieties began to fade.

His large hand threaded through her red hair and drew her closer. As Katrina felt his breath so near, she too closed her eyes.

With her graceful permission, he tilted his head.

His lips—warm, a little fevered—gently claimed her soft, rosy ones. Step by step, Katrina moved backward as he advanced.

Guiding her down onto the bed with practiced ease, Daniel acted nothing like the way he had imagined earlier.

He did not push her roughly; instead, he caressed her tenderly, touching her gently everywhere, letting the heat he had long restrained flow into deep, lingering kisses.

“Hhhn… Daniel…”

Her m*an slipped free despite herself, and his hands began undoing her buttons one by one, achingly slow. 

Tak. Tak.

Each sounds like a breathless countdown.

Did she realize how hard he was trying to restrain his desire, which only burned hotter with his fears for her?

“Darling, please…”

Clearly, she did not.

Her eyes welled with frustration, for the more leisurely he was, the more he set her aflame.

And if he was going to be slow, why was one of his hands teasing her so maddeningly? His lips on her shoulder grew hotter with each touch, until she thought she would burn alive.

She bit her lower lip.

“…Hurry up, already…”

“Pfft—!”

At her clear, precise words, Daniel broke the kiss, dropping a laugh onto her pale shoulder.

Perhaps she only spoke so well because she’d practiced those particular words often.

Where else could he ever find a woman so honest, so endearing? No wonder the very idea of a mistress felt tiresome.

Even without hearing, Katrina knew his chuckle for what it was—the way it tickled her shoulder was unmistakable.

Still, though her face flushed scarlet, she had no intention of taking her words back. Especially not when his hand kept stroking her waist, making her tremble.

“To. day.”

Lifting his head, he looked down at her and spoke, each syllable slow and firm.

“Slow. ly.”

A sigh slipped from her red lips, only to be swallowed at once by Daniel’s mouth. At last, as if resigned, her slender hands wrapped around his waist.

From that moment on, words were no longer necessary.

This was the first summer since Katrina had been plunged into silence— and soon it would become the lush season when new life would stir.

Late summer had come to Sopore Gorge. The garden, gloomy only until spring, was now brimming with lush, green vitality.

That day, Katrina woke from a dream of a whale. For a morning, the sunlight felt dazzlingly bright.

‘…?!’

The moment her eyelids lifted, the great blue whale swimming through the ocean vanished.

Where did it go? She was certain—it had been enormous and jet-black, gliding gracefully through an emerald sea beneath an open sky scattered with billowing clouds…

‘Ah… it was just a dream.’

Her gaze lingered vaguely around the familiar bedroom until she realized that it had been only a dream.

Groaning softly, Katrina pushed herself upright. Her whole body felt heavy and languid, like damp cotton. It seemed Daniel had once again gone to work without waking her.

‘How long did I even sleep?’

Lately, she had been sleeping much more than usual. For the past several weeks, she hadn’t once seen her husband off in the mornings.

She had always been prone to sleeping in, but ever since the accident, she often lay awake at night—so oversleeping was rare.

Yet recently, she had grown drowsier, and Daniel had instructed the servants not to disturb her. That was why no one had come, even though the sun was already so high.

And since she couldn’t hear, unless someone shook her awake, she had no choice but to sink into a deep slumber.

‘Haa… but this feels more like a nap than morning sleep.’

She pulled the curtains open with a faintly irritated look—

[ “Kat.” ]

Daniel’s voice. No, not truly heard—seen.

It wasn’t the first time. In the midst of ordinary days, dreamlike images would suddenly flood into her mind.

By now, she was somewhat used to it.

Katrina blinked a few times in a daze, then closed her eyes once she realized where the voice was coming from.

[“I was thinking… perhaps we should move to the Grand Duchy. If you and our child are willing.”]

He said this within the vision.

‘Our child?’

But… they didn’t have one.

Puzzled, Katrina tilted her head—then in the next scene, Daniel gently placed his hand on her stomach.

“…!”

She startled awake and instinctively pressed her palm to her belly—yet felt nothing.

Even with her eyes open, the vision continued. This time, it was another place, another time.

[ The Moon of the Grand Duchy — The Duchess of Gnotician ]

It was the headline on the front page of a newspaper before her eyes. Below it was an illustration of what looked like her and Daniel.

‘So, when he spoke of moving to the Grand Duchy…’

[ (Excerpt) The current Duchess of Gnotician is with child, and it is expected that the Grand Duchy will soon welcome a new young lady… (cont’d) ]

Katrina’s eyes froze on that line.

‘A child…?’

They had both wished for one, but three years into their marriage, there had been no sign. Eventually, they had resigned themselves, thinking that if such a blessing were meant to come, it would.

Still… she couldn’t help but secretly hope.

‘This too… it must be the future.’

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

These sudden intrusions of the future—at first, she had thought them lingering side effects of the explosion. Of course, she believed it was only her imagination.

Life had been too harsh, too hopeless, so she assumed her subconscious kept conjuring hopeful illusions.

But then, scenes she thought were hallucinations began to actually come true.

In short, these unbelievable visions weren’t daydreams or fantasies.

‘Am I really… going to have a child?’

But Katrina quickly tried to steady her thoughts, forcing reason over emotion.

‘No… I mustn’t jump to conclusions. It may not be foresight. It could just be my magic acting strangely after the accident…’

She was afraid that hoping too soon would only end in bitter disappointment.

After all, since the explosion, her magical power had fallen to a subpar level.

She could still manage simple everyday spells, but compared to others in her family, she had regressed to a beginner.

She tried not to let it bother her—she didn’t want to bring it up and worsen Daniel’s already deep guilt.

Besides, true foresight was said to be a gift only given to the saintesses born in the Holy Kingdom.

Though the Hereidin family had produced many fine magicians, never once had anyone been born with the gift of prophecy.

And yet…

‘…The tea party vision really did come true.’